Untitled
by Ligeia x3
Summary: Annabel suffers from severe depression and everything that comes along with it e.g.,cutting, suicidal thoughts. That is, until a mysterious, handsome stranger comes into her life desperately wanting to help her.
1. Chapter 1

I am the girl who sits and daydreams all day instead of living out her life. I always thought thatmy dreams (daydreams or the ones I had at night) were infinitely better than real life anyway. I dream of becoming famous, becoming prettier, being smarter, getting into a good college, running away with my dream man. . . basically having a better life than the one I had.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I have a pretty good life. I don't have a sob story. My parents didn't beat me, my uncle didn't rape me, and I've never been molested. Actually if you think about it, I have a pretty darn good life. I love my family with all my heart and they love me with the same intensity.

But for some reason, I just can't appreciate life. Something doesn't click in my brain. So instead I spend life with my friend, the blade. And when I don't allow the blade slide smoothly across my skin, I contemplate ways of ending my life. It's the only way to deal with my sad, pathetic attempt at a life-- knowing that soon, I would be able to get another cut in. Or when that wasn't enough, the comfort of knowing that dying was an option.

I am worth nothing in this world. I am not full of teenage angst and confusion, but I truly believe this.


	2. Chapter 2

_Fuck, shit, fuck!_

I said this to myself as my alarm sounded. I groaned and stared my alarm clock/cell phone. 5:45 AM. Damn.

I got up and walked to the bathroom across the hallway from my room and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked terrible. I had dark circles under my eyes (as I always did) and, if I wasn't mistaken, I could see an eye booger on the corner of my left eye. Disgusting.

Fresh and showered, I walk into my room to quickly pick out my outfit for the day. I say quickly because I must do this process fast before my mother routinely walks in on me dressing. I don't want her to see the multiple scars I have on my body. That is something she will never see. So quickly, I pick out my favorite shirt, black allover lace, and undershirt to go along with that, jeans and some ballet flats.

"Buenos dias," I hear coming from the door as my mom walks in. See what I said; routine.

"Good morning," I always respond to this in English. For some reason even I can't comprehend, I don't feel comfortable saying "Buenos dias" to my parents. I guess it's because it sounds too formal in Spanish, meanwhile my parents and I have a tight and unbreakable bond that has no need for formalities.

I give my mom a kiss on the mouth and she says good-bye and gives me a hug for good luck. In Hispanic culture it's not so strange to give your parents a kiss on the mouth, I guess. I've always done it, so it's never seemed strange to me. My father had already left for work without saying good-bye. My father and I have this relationship. We don't always need to be showering each other with affection; we already know that we love each other without the need for too many kisses or hugs. Although I'm not depraved of them from his side. I also give him a kiss on the mouth when appropriate (e.g., to say good night, good bye, etc.)

So now I'm left alone and I don't mind that at all. I quite enjoy solitude. More than I should, anyway. But now the nerves start to kick in as I eat breakfast. I really enjoyed the summer. Well, as much as I can enjoy anything these days. I didn't have to deal with people. I could stay at home or go to the park and read. Of course there were people at the park or the beach, but I didn't have to deal with them, because usually, I went alone. And when I didn't go alone, I went with my best friend, who, like me, enjoys a good read.

But now, today, I have to start all over again. I have to deal with the nonsensical shit that people do. I have to be around strangers. Today, is the first day of my second semester of college.

My first semester was terrible. I did terrible, I walked around campus all day in gloom, I had no friends (I _have_ no friends) and the students there were insufferably conceited. Or maybe I'm just insufferably nerdy. No, I don't get straight As (that is _far_ from the truth), but I do spend most of my time reading, especially on campus and I'm not what you would call an especially sociable or outgoing person. If I were to tell the truth, I'm actually quite introverted. I'm actually quite _boring_. Plain and boring. No wonder my friend count totals to a staggering one. I only have one friend, but that's only because, she is, in many ways, quite like me. Only less boring and less plain. Actually she's really outgoing and extroverted when she tries. But when we're together she dulls it down a bit to my level. Although we do have fun; we laugh, we joke, we have our "insiders", but she can definitely lift it up a notch or two when she's with her other friends.

I know this semester will be no different from the last. I'll be just as quiet as I was and I'll make no friends.

I drove up to the entrance of the local community college. With my grades in high school, that was the best I could do-- community college. My plan is to transfer, but who knows if I'll make it that far with my grades.

I hated driving. It wasn't that I was bad at it (although, to be fair, I wasn't the best at it either), it's just that I was lazy. And driving in this parking lot was absolute hell. Cars everywhere! But luckily, I came early, just as I had planned to do and since it was Spring Semester there weren't that many new students coming in so more parking spaces available. I knew that campus pretty well, but there were still places that could get me lost, so I parked in a familiar parking lot and got out.

It was a beautiful day. Cold, but beautiful. I had my winter jacket and gloves on so I was pretty warm, but that cool breeze was still able to bite at the back of my neck and my cheeks. I can understand why people hate the winter, but I just don't. I mean don't get me wrong, after a while the constant snowing gets annoying, but I find snow absolutely breathtaking and romantic. It wasn't snowing today, but I do somehow find romance in the cold. Your loved one has to hold you close in order to get body warmth, the playful snowball fights you can have. . . it's all stuff you would find in some cheesy romantic comedy, but I find it desirous. I love all the seasons. I can find the romance in them all.

I walked to the building where my first class, English, would take place. It was close to the parking lot so I didn't have to walk very far. The classroom number was 202 and the professor was Professor Rea. That was kind of a cool name. I pictured a hip, cool guy in his early 30s.

I took a seat in the back of the class next to the windows. I was really early; there were only two people in the classroom. Still I blushed a little, a rare thing for someone my skin color to do. Usually tan people don't blush frequently, but I do. Walking into a classroom or any room with strangers when there's already people inside is an awkward situation. Everyone turns and stares at you, something that I don't like. I don't like being the center of attention.

Soon enough, people started walking in and I would look up absentmindedly. One girl came in who was paler than a piece of paper. One thin boy came in with dark brown hair and electric blue eyes. I sat there and observed as one by one, student after student came in and sat down each trying to get farther and farther away from the teacher as possible. But then one boy came in who caught my attention. He was the tall, dark and handsome type. He certainly was tall, had to be about 6'0. His eyes and hair were a dark brown and his skin matched mine in color. And when it came to being handsome, this guy definitely fit the bill. Muscular arms and chiseled facial features.

I quickly noticed that I'd been staring at this work of art too long because he was already sitting down when he looked at me, staring at him, and smiled and looked away. I quickly looked down.

_Fuck. That was so embarrassing._

That was when Professor Rea came in and I was sourly disappointed. He was an old man of about 50.

_So much for being some hip dude_.

And so class begun with him passing out the syllabus and me taking out my diary. This is going to be a long hour and 45 minutes. Especially with his droning, nasally voice. Usually I liked English, but I don't know how I'll survive through a whole semester of this.

_January 25,2010_

_So I'm in English. I don't know how I'll survive. My professor has this terrible nasal voice that I can't stand. I completely embarrassed myself in front of a complete, hot stranger. I know, I know, I stared at him for way too long, but he was so handsome! I've never seen someone so good looking. But don't get your hopes up Annabel. It's not like he'll ever pay attention to you. You're not pretty enough for him. You'll never be pretty enough for a guy like that. Get that through your head! Actually when you think about it, you don't actually deserve a guy like him. You don't deserve anything. You're a pathetic person who doesn't know how to do anything. Why would anyone ever pay attention to you in that way or any way?_

But truth be told, I don't know him at all so it's not like I'm _interested_ in him, it's just a thought. And it's true, I don't deserve him even if his personality was crap. I'm nothing and it's going to stay that way.

But now I wanted to do something. Something that would take this pain away. The pain of knowing that I truly am nothing and would never amount to anything. And I had to do it now. But of course, I was too embarrassed to just walk out in front of the entire classroom and go to the bathroom to do what I needed to do.

_So I guess I'll just have to do it here._

I went inside my bag and searched for my trusty blade. I found it quickly. It was in the pocket where I always kept it. I touched the edge. It was fresh and very sharp. I put both my hands under the desk and to the left of me where no one, not even me, could see them. Not even the person next to me, I bet if they were to look. So I dug the edge of the blade into the palm of my hand and slid it across. In my present circumstances, I couldn't do it on my favorite spot-- my left forearm. The blood almost immediately came rushing out as did the relief. I felt a wash of intense contentment as the blood smeared across my palm. With one hand ( as I didn't want to get blood all over my bag), I put my blade away and I looked to the boy next to me to see if he'd seen anything. It was the boy with the electric blue eyes. He was staring intently straight across, a serious expression on his face (probably boredom.) He noticed I was staring and he looked at me and I quickly looked away. With my peripheral vision, I noticed he stared at me for a second longer than he should have and then he looked straight again.

_ That was weird. He definitely stared at me for too long. Could he have seen? No! He was staring straight across! I saw him!_

And with my mind put at ease, I was reassured that he couldn't have seen because when class was over he quickly picked up his cell phone that was on his desk and left without another glance. Meanwhile, I searched for the handsome boy, and found him. He turned to me and smiled again. I was so surprised that he did so that I didn't have a chance to smile back before he turned away and left the classroom.

I picked up my bag and left the classroom, going straight into the bathroom. I went into a stall trying to clean up the mess I'd made. I tied some toilet paper around my left hand and left it there to soak up all the blood. And then I left, walking to the next building, my next class, math, with the handsome boy's smile still in mind trying to convince myself that he didn't smile at me.


	3. Chapter 3

The first day and I already get homework. Absolute bullshit. Well I guess you can't expect much else from college, right? And it's nothing more than math homework too, my worst subject. The school day was over (I only have two classes, isn't it great?) and I walked into my bedroom.

My room was fairly small, but it did manage to fit a bookcase in it which was the most important thing. Oh yeah, and a bed. I sat on my bed and just looked around. No one was home, as always, so I had the whole day to myself until my parents came back from work. It was very quiet. I don't mind the quiet, but not today. So I took out my iPod and put it in my iHome which was on my night table right next to my bed, and turned it to my favorite song. It's haunting, romantic melody came out of the speakers and soothed the quiet of my room. When I felt really worthless, I'd always imagined myself committing suicide to this song. The song had nothing to do with suicide, but the voice and the melody was so haunting that I could see it happening. I also imagined dancing with my dream man to this song as it was first and foremost a love song. I daydreamed more of the former, but also the latter.

I walked around my room and found myself staring my reflection in the mirror. I had forgotten to put on make-up today so I looked more plain than usual. I did do my hair last night though, I straightened it with a flat iron, though my hair is already pretty straight, but frizzy. My hair was dark brown in color as were my eyes. My skin, a tan color, which I hated. I'd always admired pale skinned girls. It was so much prettier. All the heroines of my favorite novels were pale skinned, while I was brown skinned. Then I stared at my whole body. I was overweight, definitely. A size 9 instead of a size 2. I poked--hard-- at the fat on my stomach, thighs and arms. I was a disgusting piece of work. No wonder I'd never had a boyfriend before. No one would ever be attracted to a fat piece of shit like me.

_January 25, 2010_

_11:37 AM_

_ Sometimes I just feel so alone. I mean sure I have my parents and I have Jo, but I don't have anyone else. What I mean by that is, and I know it sounds stupid and so teenagerish (I know that's not a word), but I don't have a boyfriend. I've never had a boyfriend. I'm 18 and I've never had a boyfriend before. How pathetic is that!? Jo's had many boyfriends before. She's not even a virgin. I am. I am as pure a virgin as you can get. Never been kissed. I mean, yeah, that once in 9th grade, but that hardly counts. A peck. A little pathetic peck. But I know why I've never had a boyfriend before. It's because of the way I am and the way I look. Everything about me is an anti magnet. Everything about me is repulsive. I am boring, ugly, worthless, fat, talentless, and so many other horrible words._

_ I cut again today. That's hardly a surprise, I know. I can look back in this book and read of hundreds (well, maybe not hundreds) of times that I've written that. But I just felt the need to let you know that. I tell you everything. I tell you things I can't even tell Jo. Like the fact, that sometimes, and even more frequently lately, the thought of suicide hasn't been so terrible a thought. Actually, I've daydreamed of how I would do it. It swims in my mind like a sexual fantasy that I can't get rid of. I know it's an incredibly selfish act (my parents would die if I did that), but why would they want a daughter like me anyway? It'd be better all around, wouldn't it?_

The next day passed by without coincidence. No cutting, no self name calling (well, there's always a _little_ of that) and no maybe he did maybe he didn't cute boy smiling at me. I had History and Psychology. Psychology always annoys me. While it is fascinating, it annoys me that we always have to go through a section of talking about depression and cutting. I took it in high school so I would know. I have to be extra careful through that section to cover my scars. The students become hyper aware of any sign of cutting around them, so I become hyper aware of covering my scars.

That night while I was begrudgingly doing my math homework for the next day, I hear a buzz coming from my night stand. It was a text from Jo, my best friend.

Jo: _ Hey buddy! I haven't heard from you since forever! What's up? Let's go out somewhere tonight._

I looked down at my math homework. I was almost done and the invitation to go out did sound tempting, so I budged.

Me:_ Hey! Alright, where do you want to go?_

Jo: _I don't know. . . I'm kind of hungry. Wanna go to Fridays or something?_

My mom was cooking, but I knew my parents would be thrilled to see me going out somewhere even if it is with Jo. I hardly ever go out and when I do, it's always with Jo.

Me: _Yeah, sure._

Jo: _Okay, I'll be there in 10 mins._

True to form, she was here in about 20 minutes. Her black convertible was standing outside my house waiting for me. Her car was gorgeous, obviously, but I'd never envied it. It's not that I don't like fancy cars or anything, I'm just not very car savvy and don't really care whether I have a shiny black Mercedes or whether I have an old Toyota. As long as it takes me from point A to point B.

"Bye mommy, bye daddy," I kissed them goodbye as my mom handed me $30. I didn't have a job at the moment so I, very frustratingly, had to rely on my parents for extra money. I looked at my parents and they told me to be careful. They were opposites. My dad looked like me, tan skinned with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. My mom on the other hand, had pale skin with hazel eyes and light brown hair. While I thought my father was very handsome, I wished I looked more like my mother. All the features my father had didn't work on me.

I walked out to Jo's car and opened the door. There she was smiling and waving at me. Though she does dull it down for me, that doesn't mean much, because she is still very bubbly.

"Ann! I haven't seen you in forever! How is school so far?"

I tried to pull my bubbly spirit up a few notches to kind of match hers, but that'll be impossible so instead I settled for a smile.

"Hey. School's good so far. How was your first day?"

"Well Cal and me went together and. . ."

I drifted in and out of her conversation saying the appropriate "Oh" and "Yeah" when I could get a word in edgewise. I'm glad Jo liked to talk because I wouldn't know what to say anyway. I don't have an interesting life so I wouldn't like to regale her with a story of how I went home and did nothing. Jo, on the other hand, has a very interesting life. For one, she has a boyfriend, Cal. She has lots of friends with whom she likes to get together and have the occasional drink. It might not seem like a lot, but she does a lot more than I do which is absolutely nothing. Except read.

We arrived at Friday's and were seated in a booth. The restaurant was a dark and funky kind of place. Records and posters of Jimi Hendrix, AC/DC and some indie bands lined the dark wooden walls. Only a dim light lit our table. I liked the place and the atmosphere. It was cool.

The blond waitress came to us and took our orders.

"So nothing new is up with you? I feel like I'm doing all the talking here," Jo said.

I laughed, "You know I have nothing new happening to me. Ever."

I felt bad though for not saying much, so I scanned my brain for something new. I dug deep and bingo! I figured it out. She was sipping on her drink when I suddenly blurted out,

"Actually something weird did happen to me yesterday."

She looked intrigued, "Go on"

"Well, I think some guy in my English class smiled at me"

Her eyes lit up, "You think or he did?"

"Well I don't know! He might've been smiling at someone behind me," Which I knew was impossible since I was sitting in the very back corner of the classroom.

"Oh god. He probably _was_ smiling at you! What did he look like?"

I remembered his face. Gorgeous, "He was my skin color, dark hair, dark eyes, muscular. He was cute," A severe understatement.

"Oh! He sounds cute. You should talk to him! Just say hi or smile at-- hey, what's that on your hand?"

My left hand went to go look at the dessert menu, so my palm was visible to her. I had completely forgotten about it. Shit.

I quickly took my hand to my chest, "Nothing"

"Like hell it's nothing! You cut again didn't you?"

Jo knew about my cutting, but didn't know the extent of it. She didn't know that I did it almost every other day. She thought I did it once a month, I imagine.

I didn't say anything. I felt ashamed. I always felt ashamed about my cuts especially when someone found them. Usually I could make a good excuse, like a cat scratched me or something, but Jo knew.

"Why did you do it?"

I waited a moment and said, "I don't know"

I didn't want to tell her that I did it because I felt like a worthless pig. I didn't want to upset her even more.

"You _have_ to stop doing this to yourself!"

I looked straight into her eyes. They were dark brown, like mine, only hers were prettier. She was a very pretty girl. I have to admit, if she weren't my best friend, I'd be seriously jealous of her.

"Look, I'm sorry"

"Don't say sorry! Just stop doing it!"

If only it were that easy. If it only I could just stop doing it. If only she knew what I felt when I cut. It felt like ecstasy. I wanted to tell her that, but she wouldn't understand. She would just think I was crazy.

I didn't say anything and the whole night turned awkward. When she drove me home, she gave me a lecture. I didn't say a word. I could tell she was upset. She didn't like when I cut, obviously.

We arrived at my house, "Just please promise me you won't do it again"

"I promise I'll try my hardest to stop," with all the pain in my heart, I crossed my fingers.

I had to admit, I was slightly excited to go to English and it wasn't because I was excited to hear Professor Rea's riveting lecture. To be honest, it was to see that gorgeous guy and maybe find out his name. I knew myself to well to know that I would actually take Jo's advice and talk to him. I'm _way_ too shy for that kind of interaction, but maybe if he smiles at me I might just smile back at him instead of just stupidly staring back.

I drove early to school again and sat down in class. I was the first in. I sat in my usual seat, back corner of the classroom, nearest to the windows. I stared out the window and let my mind wander. I looked down at my wrist and saw my veins. The skin on top of them was so translucent, I could clearly see the blue veins under the skin. They were almost protruding out. Almost begging me to cut them open. I have all the tools. I have my trusty blade. I know when I can do it, I have all the time in the world when I get home from school. But do I have the courage? I wonder if life would be better on the other side.

I looked up and half the class was full. Including the gorgeous guy. I very shyly looked over to where he was sitting and he was looking at me. I felt a blush creeping onto my cheeks. He was sitting one row away from me, also in the back. He smiled at me, again.

Okay, Annabel. This is it. Smile or don't. But for God's sake stop staring at him like a lunatic! So I gave him a small smile. Am I flirting? Is this what flirting is?

But I didn't get to find out what would happen next because a boy came and sat in the seat next to me cutting off my view of him. I looked away quickly, but from my peripheral vision I saw it was the boy with the intense blue eyes.

Damn him! No, that's being mean, but he didn't have to come in so soon! Who knows what could've happened? Maybe the gorgeous guy would've said hi! Or maybe he wouldn't have. Maybe the smiles are just polite smiles because I keep staring at him like an idiot. He must think I'm a freak.

"Um, excuse me"

I turned and saw it was the boy with the blue eyes talking to me. I gave him a small smile.

"Did we have any homework from last night?" His voice was deep and very manly. Kind of sexy.

"Um, I don't think so."

"Oh okay. I'm Jayden, by the way"

"Annabel," I said quietly. I am very shy around strangers. My voice gets one pitch higher and a little quieter, so it sounds like a chipmunk.

He turned back around and looked straight. That was when Professor Rea came in. Great, here comes his _interesting_ lecture.

When class was over, I quickly wanted out. The more I thought about it, the more I knew that the gorgeous boy, who I now knew is named Michael, thinks I'm a freak. As he rightly should. I am a freak. And what was up with that guy asking me a question? I mean, I'm sure it was just a simple, innocent question, but since my first semester nobody has ever spoken to me. Which is why I found it strange.

I started walking out of the classroom and when I was in the hallway walking out of the building I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and it was Jayden.

"Hey, um, can I ask you something?"

I felt really strange. Nobody has ever spoken to me in this school, especially twice in one day, "Sure"

"Can you tell me where this building is? I have a class there next and I have no idea where that building is," he showed me his schedule. He had Calculus next in the same building I had Algebra. What a coincidence.

"Oh yeah sure, I'm going there next too"

"Thanks"

The walk there was a little awkward. He looked very concentrated on something, "So is this your first semester here?"

He looked at me with those blue eyes. I had to admit, they were very attractive, "Uh, yeah, yeah it is"

So a man of few words, just like me. So I stopped talking. Why did he have to ask me to take me to this class? Why couldn't he ask campus security or something? This is _so_ awkward.

Actually that is a good question. Why did he ask me? He could've asked our professor or campus security or just about anyone else. Well, I guess since he'd already asked me a question earlier, he felt comfortable asking me another one.

"Yeah, it's my first semester and I didn't go to class last time because I got lost so this is my first time going to this class," he sounded unsure about something. He sounded strange.

"Oh," I said lamely. I don't understand how he could get lost to that building. I mean, I still do get lost to some buildings, but that building is pretty easy as it has a big sign in front that says the name of the building and it's in the courtyard of the school.

Suddenly I remembered that I hadn't put my math homework in my bag. Crap. I stopped in my tracks and so did he. We were right in front of the building when I took out my bag and started searching through it.

"What's wrong? What are you looking for?"

Distracted, I said, "I forgot to put my-- here, can you hold this. And this. And this," I gave him several things to hold while I looked to see if my math notebook was there. It wasn't.

"Here, I'll take that stuff back," He gave me my English notebook and my Math textbook. I take my math textbook, but not my notebook. Stupid me.

"Are you okay," he asked.

"Yeah, I just forgot to bring my math homework. I can't go to class. My math professor looks like one of those strict people that'll pull out your trachea if you don't bring in your homework"

He laughed-- hard, "Yeah I've seen those"

"Well this is the building"

"Yeah I know. I mean, I figured it was because of the sign. Well thanks. See you Monday"

"See ya"

I walked off and drove home. I went into my room, put my hair into a ponytail, and went into my bag to take out my diary. I always like to write in it when I get back from school.

I searched in my bag and it wasn't there. I searched in deeper. Nothing. I took out all the contents of the bag and still nothing. But I remember packing it this morning into my bag!

And then, like a pile of bricks onto my chest, it hit me. When I was giving Jayden all my stuff to hold, I gave him my diary. And he didn't give it back.


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh fuckity fuck fuck!_

What should I do? What should I do? Should I drive back to campus and look for him? I know what building he's in. . .

But I don't know what classroom! That building is huge, I'll never find him! I wouldn't be so worried if my diary didn't so obviously look like a diary. It's a small blue book with an attached ribbon to hold my page in place, which by itself could just as innocently look like a novel, but across the front page in bold dark blue letters is written MY DIARY. I bought that book as a child and I'd always kept it because, as a child, I never had the proper attention span to write in a diary. But as I grew older I felt I needed to tell all my true feelings to someone-- or rather to _something_. If I had the choice now, I would have never bought a book that so easily looked like a diary for this exact reason. Prying, curious eyes would want to read it.

And right about now, blue curious eyes are probably fondling their way across every page. And usually that would be okay, if what I had in that book weren't so _personal_. so bad. If what I had in that book were merely my day to day activities and my crush all I would feel right now is extreme embarrassment. But no, what I feel right now is extreme anxiety. Anxiety so deep that I knew I would have to cut. It was inevitable.

Because what I have in that book isn't normal teenage girl things like "I wish my crush would pay attention to me" , but instead I have "I wish my life was over" or "I just cut" said over and over again in different ways and variations. That diary goes deep into what I feel, into my depression.

Yes, I know I have depression. I am profoundly depressed. No, I haven't been to a psychiatrist, but how much more obvious could it be? Suicidal ideation, cutting? Yeah, definitely depression. But I won't tell anyone because I don't want help. I just want to be left alone to wallow in self pity.

And I definitely don't want this Jayden guy to be the first to find out. I mean, what would he do? Probably send me immediately to the school counselor. Because I'm suicidal, they'll have to tell my parents even though I'm 18. And this will be the end of everything. It'll be the end of my cutting. I tried to imagine a life without cutting. A life without the seductive lure of the blade. And that was more than enough to propel me to cut again.

I went into my bag and searched for my blade and found it in the pocket where it always was. I was alone today so I had freedom to cut wherever I wanted, how many times I wanted and as long as I wanted to. I could truly experience the wound today. I stared at the blade, at its cold, silver beauty. It truly was beautiful in my sick eyes. I pressed the edge of the blade to my lip. It hurt and it was sharp, but I didn't press hard enough to get any blood. Only pain. But that wasn't enough. It was never enough. Where would I do it today? I rolled up my sleeve and saw all the scars that I had on my arms. Some wounds were still fresh. I had too many to cut there and be able to hide it successfully, so I checked my stomach. I had a tons of scars there and a few wounds that were healing. That's a possibility, but still, I had a lot. So I took off my jeans and checked my legs. I had but a few scars on my inner thigh and no fresh wounds. Yes, this will have to do.

I grabbed the blade and immediately my mind went on autopilot. The blade started acting of its own accord. The blade pressed down on my leg and started to dance across my leg again and again and again. Only when the blade finished its waltz did I come back to my senses. I started feeling the pain and the blood running down my leg and it was so glorious! The pain wasn't pain, but instead it was an orgasm without the need of another human body. My breathing became irregular and my heart started beating faster. I could feel electricity in my veins. It was like nothing I've ever experienced before. I laid down on my bed and allowed myself to feel the climax of the wound wash over me.

I've never had a boyfriend before, but I have had several lovers and they never let me down.

Later that day, with sweatpants, tee and my hair in a ponytail, my anxiety was considerately lowered. I mean, what are the chances that he's actually reading my diary? He's probably keeping it and waiting to give it back to me on Monday. He really didn't look so interested in me when I walked him to that building so what makes me think that I'm so interesting to him that he'll want to read my diary?

But still, I couldn't help my nerves being on edge the next night or the nights after that. Because though he didn't seem interested in me, a diary is a diary. It's someone's inner most thoughts. I know if I saw someone's diary and had it for four days, I would want to read it. But that's just me. I'm a curious person. I'll give this Jayden guy the benefit of the doubt. He might be a respectful person who doesn't like to get into people's business.

It was _finally_ Monday. The days had gone by insufferably slow. Even my parents sensed something was wrong because all I could think about was Jayden reading my diary. I kept thinking back to the exact passages I wrote. They were terribly depressing. If he had read them, he would no doubt send me to a counselor immediately.

I couldn't be bothered with getting ready today. I put my long hair in a ponytail, put jeans, a hoodie and sneakers on. I didn't even eat breakfast; I knew I would regret that decision later. My anxiety made me leave extra early for school. I drove fast and got there way too early. I sat in the library until it was time for class, the whole time, my stomach doing leaps.

When I walked in to the class, my heart stopped. I was the second person in class. The first was Jayden. And he was reading something. A small book not with computer print on it, but with handwriting in it. It was my diary.

My anger flared. I could feel a fire go up my chest. I wanted to scream at him and snatch it away, but instead I stayed rooted to the spot. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He read a passage and then looked off into space, daydreaming. That's when he noticed me standing there. He stared at me with those electric blue eyes.

I quickly walked to his desk and snatched away my diary, "How _dare_ you read it!"

I was never usually this rude. Actually I was never rude, period. I never had the balls to be rude to anyone. But this guy had crossed the line. How dare he read my diary? I actually gave him the benefit of the doubt! I mean, he couldn't even try and hide the fact that he read it. He read it in plain sight. What a fucking idiot.

Instead of saying anything he got up (he's taller than I imagined), and grabbed my hand, "Come with me"

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

He turned around and looked at me with such an intensity, that it scared me. I didn't even know this guy, "Come with me, or I swear I'll send you to a counselor right now"

I swallowed-- hard. It's as if he read my mind. He knows my weakness. He knows that I'd do anything to keep him from giving away my secret.

"Fine," I said angrily.

He didn't let go of my hand as he led me out of the classroom, and out of the building. He led me to the courtyard of the school and to a bench where he sat down and let go of my hand. I didn't sit down.

"What do you want," I blurted out loudly.

He paused for a long moment. He looked around the campus as people walked around. I looked at him up and down. Despite my anger, I could see that he was good looking in his own way, his most handsome feature being his eyes. They were the bluest eyes I've ever seen, which today were covered by black rimmed glasses. His skin was quite pale in stark contrast with his dark brown, almost black, hair. He was wearing a black coat, jeans and sneakers as was I.

After a moment he said, quietly," I saw when you cut yourself that day in class"

My eyes widened. So someone had seen. I was embarrassed. Cutting was something so personal to me. The fact that someone had seen me do it was horrifying.

He continued, "I didn't know what to do. I was so disgusted , but I couldn't do anything to stop you there in class. I didn't know what to do, so I left that day and all I could do that day was think about you. I wondered why you did it, what was going through your head, so the next day I came determined to talk to you. I had to know. When you gave me your diary I just had to read it. To know why you did it."

My anger flared again, "You know, that's none of your fucking business! Why I cut is my reason and my reason alone. No one needs to know, especially not you."

"Of course it's my business! I saw you do it! I'm involved now"

My eyes widened again," What! You're not involved in anything!," I started to walk away knowing that I couldn't go back to English because we were already late.

I felt his hand close around my wrist and turn me around, "Yes I am involved. I am _not_ going to let you cut yourself anymore"

I stared at him, wondering why he cared so much. I understand that he would be disgusted, but any other person would let it go. Why wouldn't he?

"Why do you care if I cut myself or not?"

"Because you could really hurt yourself"

"Exactly! Why do you care if I hurt myself? You don't even know me!"

"Because I am not going to let anyone kill themselves while I can do something about it"

"Well then don't worry, because I'm not going to kill myself," I said mentally crossing my fingers.

"I don't believe you"

"I don't care," and again I started to walk away. This time he ran and stood in my way. I walked to right, he walked to right. I walked to the left to get by him, he walked to the left.

"Will you stop!"

"No"

"Okay so let's say I agree with you. You're _involved._ What are you going to do? You think you can stop me from doing what I do or thinking the way I do?"

He stared at me deeply, "I haven't worked out the details, but as long as I have my eyes on you then I'll be calmer. I haven't been able to sleep these past days thinking that you've cut yourself or worse"

"I don't get you. Why would you want to help a complete stranger? In case it matters to you, I don't want your help"

"It doesn't matter"

I looked at him and walked away. For a moment he didn't follow and then he quickly caught up to me, "Give me your number"

"What? No!"

"Look, I'm not coming on to you, I just want to keep tabs on you at all times. And I can't do that when I only see you twice a week"

"Have you not been listening? I don't want your help!"

"I don't like blackmailing people, but if you don't let me help you, then I guess you're going to have to let a counselor do it for me"

I stared at him for a moment and then, very unwillingly gave him my number which he put into his cell phone.

He stared at me deeply in the eyes and I found myself staring at him dumbly. Those blue eyes were so gorgeous, I couldn't help but ogle, "You won't regret this, I promise"

And then I was brought back to reality.

Crap.


	5. Chapter 5

"I bet you I will," I said, already feeling the regret of having given him my number bunch up in my chest.

He smirked, "Honestly, I don't understand what the big deal is. I mean, okay I get it. I _am_ a complete stranger and you don't want to confide your secrets in me, but you're getting the good end of the deal here. I mean, do you really want to be depressed your entire life or just accept my help and hopefully lead a happier life?"

I looked up at him and stared. He made a good point. Do I really want to lead the rest of my life walking around like a ghost?

Well, no, of course not. Who wanted to be sad? No one, that's who, and if anyone tells you different, it's bullshit. No one actually wants to be sad, we just don't want to accept help. We want to be left alone to let the melancholy swallow us whole. But, if you're like me, somewhere deep inside yourself where no one can see, you're dying for someone to come and help you. You're screaming at the top of your lungs for salvation from this endless hell.

But luckily (or, I guess, unluckily, for Jayden) that part of me is buried deep down inside my heart. Somewhere so deep, that I have yet to see it come. And today certainly won't be the day for it to come bouncing out.

"You know, you really shouldn't take a girls diary so seriously. All that stuff I wrote was just when I had the blues. You know, teenage angst. It was nothing, so if you'll excuse me, I'll just pretend like this little conversation never happened and we can go back to being complete strangers in English, okay?"

I moved past him and tried to walk when I felt him grab my wrist. It was a gentle hold. I felt my face go hot; I'd never had this kind of physical contact with a boy so attractive. Still holding my wrist, he walked over to me and stood in front of me. He was a little too close for casual conversation, but then again, this wasn't really casual conversation. But still, he was too close for my comfort.

I looked up at him, despite my head begging me not to because I knew my face would be on fire when I did, and he was looking down at me. I felt very insignificant at that moment. He was towering over me and staring at me with an intensity too strong for two strangers and he still had a hold on my wrist.

He grabbed my other wrist and I inhaled deeply. He smelled very good. It was probably Axe. He let go of the wrist he had a hold on before and brought the other wrist up to his face.

_What the hell is he doing!_

I should move because, for a bystander, we probably look like a couple having a romantic moment. The problem is that I can't. I was too curious to see what he would do next.

He looked at my palm and his eyes went soft for a moment. He looked at me and said, "You think that this is just teenage angst?" He backed up just enough to allow him to show me my palm. The palm that I cut that day in class.

"You think that wanting to kill yourself is just the blues? I don't believe for one second that you wrote everything that you wrote in your diary 'just because'. I really do think that you want to kill yourself. But I won't let you do that. You're going to accept my help whether you like it or not. Because if you don't, I'm going to send you to the school counselor and they'll help you, but either way you're going to get some fucking help"

"Please explain to me why you want to help me so bad. If you were someone else they would just let it go and live their damn lives as if they'd never read my diary. Or they would have just sent me to the counselor immediately. But you're so intent on helping me yourself. I don't get it"

"You don't have to get it. Just please accept my help. Even though I don't know you, believe me when I tell you that I want you to live a happy life"

That's when it hit me. This guy is _good_. He wants to help me because he probably has a heart made of gold.

"Thank you," I said, sort of shocked. Nobody had ever told me that before. Other than my parents, of course.

"Hey, how about we ditch our next class and I invite you out to eat somewhere? I'm kind of hungry"

I wasn't sure that was such a good idea no matter how much of a Mother Theresa this guy was.

"Um, I already ditched this class once, I don't think I can skip again"

"So have I, but we need to work out some things. You know, get to know each other"

I cringed. It sounded like he was asking me out on a date.

"Did you bring your car?"

"Yeah"

"Well I'll drive us to the restaurant and drive you back here so that you can drive back home"

It sounded all good and dandy, but I was still skeptical. I wasn't very keen on going out with a complete stranger. We've only spoken twice and the first time was hardly a conversation at all.

Against all my good judgment, I said "Okay"

The walk to the car was an awkward one indeed. We didn't talk and I became acutely aware that I was in the presence of the person who knows me the most in the entire world, yet who I know nothing about. I felt like doing so many things. I felt like holding his hand, giving him a hug, slapping him straight across his face, kissing him, punching him; it was a mix of emotions of which I understood none.

I don't know why I was surprised when we arrived at his car. It wasn't really what I expected. I don't actually know what I expected, but it wasn't this. It was a midnight blue Mercedes Benz convertible. I know what you must be thinking. _Classy._ But no. This must have been the oldest car in the lot. It didn't really look old in the sense that it was breaking apart, but rather in the old fashioned way. The fenders were sort of big and it was just inexplicably old looking, in a shiny, expensive sort of way.

"Nice car"

"Thanks. It's a 1967 Mercedes Benz 250 SL. It's my baby"

"Yeah, as if I know the significance of that," I said playfully.

He laughed. We both got into the tiny car (it was a two door) and off we went.

I felt so uncomfortable. I wish I would've said no! This car was so small on the inside (at least to me it was.) It was making me claustrophobic.

"Want a little music?"

"Sure," I said without thinking.

I looked at his stereo system. It was surprisingly new for his very old car. Not that I know much about stereo systems, but it just looked very modern.

Jayden plugged his iPod into the stereo (while driving. It was making me very nervous) and some song I've never heard of came out of the speakers.

"Have you ever heard this song?"

"Um, no I don't think so"

Truth be told, I'm not very musically savvy. I know my music and my music alone, but apart from that I don't know much about music. And I hate people that are musically savvy because they become so pretentious about knowing _so much_ about music. It's completely annoying. Jayden seems like those types. I can tell by just one song.

He kept playing more songs and kept asking me if I knew any of the songs. I didn't.

"We live in a mad world. People just don't know good music anymore. Nobody who listens to my iPod knows any song!"

I got offended, "Excuse me, just because I don't know or like your music doesn't mean that I don't know good music. Has it ever crossed your mind that everyone has a different definition of good music? Obviously you like indie shit, I on the other hand, like a little of everything"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!"

We finally arrived at the restaurant; a diner, actually. The rest of the ride was spent in silence. We came in and were seated at a booth by a window. It was very lonely in there except for one elderly couple at the other side of the diner. It was a very homey environment in there. I love diners for just that reason.

As I looked at the menu and considered my options, he asked, "So what kind of music do you like?"

I didn't look up from the menu when I responded, "Do you really care?"

"Course I do. We're trying to become friends here, right? So I want to get to know you"

_No, _you're_ trying to become my friend. I just want to go home._

The waitress came and asked for our drinks. I looked down at my beverage options. I really liked coffee, but I didn't want to have coffee breath. Ordering plain milk presents the same problem: milky breath. But should I really care? Jayden is no one to me.

"I'll have orange juice," I guess I did care. He is a boy, after all, and I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of anyone.

"I'll have orange juice too"

The waitress left and Jayden asked again, "So..."

"So what?"

"What kind of music do you like?"

I sighed, " I told you, I like a little bit of everything. If the song is good, then I don't discriminate on the genre"

"Well, then, tell me one song you really like right now"

"How about this. Take my iPod, invade my privacy, since that doesn't seem to be a problem to you, and then you'll know what kind of music I like"

"Jeez, what's with all this animosity towards me?"

"None at all. I'm just saying since you've already invaded my privacy once, you might as well do it again"

"Well I only read your diary because I was concerned about you"

"Hmm," I said while giving him my iPod.

He looked through my iPod while the waitress came back with our drinks and took our orders (I ordered 2 pancakes with scrambled eggs and bacon, he ordered a breakfast sampler sort of thing)

"But it seems like you like rock the most"

"Yeah, but it's not the only thing on my iPod."

"Nada Valgo Sin Tu Amor," he said with the most horrible American accent I've ever heard. It's almost as if he's never spoken Spanish before.

"Yeah, it's one of my favorites in Spanish. I'm not usually into Spanish music, but I like that one. It's very romantic."

"I'd like to hear it sometime. I've never really heard Latin music"

"I'm not surprised"

When our food came, our table became total silence as we ate. It wasn't completely awkward, but it wasn't totally comfortable either. Though I kept staring at the window, I could see through my peripheral vision that Jayden was trying to stealthily stare at me.

"Okay, what do you keep staring at?"

His cheeks turned a slight pink color. I had to admit, it was kind of adorable to see a guy blush.

However, even through his blush, he was very blunt, "I was staring at you"

This time I felt my face go hot, "Well stop it. It's getting annoying"

He put his fork down and stared at me intensely, "Look, I just wanted you to know, that I know you think you're worthless and ugly, but I think you're very beautiful"

I felt my face go on fire. What the hell do I say to that?


	6. Chapter 6

I stared intently at her. She had a very angelic face surrounded by thick, dark hair. Her child-like eyes were a dark brown and her pink lips, a perfect heart shape. Her skin was perfectly golden compared to my extremely pale skin. Her entire face had turned red. _Cute_, I thought.

"Um thanks, I guess," she said looking every direction but me.

She was a strange girl, that's for sure. I'm sure any other girl would be flattered if they were called beautiful (maybe not by me, but by someone else, sure) but she doesn't seem to be comfortable with it at all. Some other girl might have flirted back (though I wasn't technically hitting on her) but she said nothing after that one remark. I couldn't understand why she thought she was "hideous", a word she used in her diary. She was more than decent, she was downright gorgeous. I'd thought so since the first time I saw her in class.

I decided to change the subject, "So are you almost done?"

She had a piece of bacon halfway in her mouth. She bit off a piece and chewed very quickly before she said, "I'm done"

"No finish up. I wasn't trying to rush you"

"No really, I'm done"

"Okay, let's get out of here"

I paid for everything (just like I promised I would) and we headed to my baby. I really love that car. It had personality.

In my car, we played my iPod. "Indie shit" as she called it. I do admit, my iPod is filled with obscure songs that hardly anyone knows.

As we drove, I looked at her with a sideways glance when we passed the school. She looked at the school, confused.

"Where are you going? My car is at school, remember?"

I smirked, "Oh I know. You're not going home just yet. Your day with me hasn't ended, unfortunately. We still have things to talk about"

Which was true. We had many things to talk about which I didn't get to at the diner. I didn't want to send her home without knowing that she'd be okay and wouldn't cut or worse. I didn't know what set her off and I wanted to find out so that we can avoid those things as much as possible.

Yes, I know, you're wondering why I'm helping her when I hardly even know her. Truth be told, I don't exactly know.

But truth be told again, I did know. I knew exactly why I wanted to help her. As much of a stranger as she is, I didn't want Annabel to end up like _her._ I didn't want anyone to.

I stopped that thought abruptly. A long time ago, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't think of _her._

I kept driving and driving and driving way past the limits of our county. I knew where I wanted to take her, despite it being so cold. I actually enjoy the cold. It's better than the brutal heat, that's for sure.

I wanted to take her to the park. To the park my family went to before-

_Stop thinking about it_! However, I couldn't help it with Annabel in my life now. She was just too similar to _that woman._

But no, I won't think about her, because thinking about her is just going to hurt me more than anything physical can.

"Where the hell are you taking me?" she asked, pulling me out of my reverie.  
"You'll see when we get there"

It was a long drive. Well not too long, but it seemed long with the quiet of the car. Annabel was a quiet girl, I noticed that. She never spoke unless spoken to. She did have a temper however, I could tell by the way she spoke to me when I told her I wanted to help her.

I drove for a couple more miles before we got to the park. It looked beautiful, just as I remembered it. I haven't been here in ages.

"Oh my gosh, I haven't been here in ages!" she said, taking the words right out of my mouth.

I looked over to her and she looked genuinely excited. Her eyes were wider than usual.

"You're not mad that I took here in the cold?" I asked once we were out of the car and walking around.

"No, I like the cold," she said, though the bridge of her nose and cheeks were red.

"You do? So do I. I would've thought you would hate it, considering every girl does"

_But Annabel isn't like every girl because you're every day girl doesn't go around cutting herself and wishing she were dead_, I thought wryly.

"I'm not exactly like every other girl, in case you haven't noticed. I hate the heat," she said, once again somehow reading my mind.

"Why?"

"Why what?" she asked confused.

"Why do you hate the heat?"

I didn't know why I was so interested in such a boring detail of her life, but I just was. Annabel interested me. And not in a good way. I wanted to know everything about her; well, everything that I don't know already. But more specifically, I wanted to know why she cut, where she cut, when she cut, etc. I wanted to know why she was so depressed. It can't only be because she thinks she's ugly. Can it?

"Um, well, I don't like sweating for one. I don't like showing skin, but most of all I hate the light that the summer emits"

The light? I didn't know summer had a "light".

"What do you mean?"

"Oh I don't know. It's hard to explain to someone. It's like an orangey light. A bright, orange, afternoon light, except it's around all day."

Annabel was a very thoughtful girl, this much I was certain of. I could tell by the things she wrote in her diary. She wrote about everything, including questions about religion, philosophy, art and so on. She _saw_ things no ordinary teenager would. And this includes this light she was talking about.

"People think I'm crazy," she continued "but I think every season has a certain color. Or at least I categorize them into a certain color"

"So what color does winter have?"

She smiled a small smile, "It has a bluish, white, incandescent sort of color. That's why I love winter. I think it's beautiful and romantic"

I looked around to see if I saw this light she was talking about. I saw green. I saw the grass, that's all. However, I did know what she was talking about. Whenever I think of winter, I think of white and luminous snow.

"I know exactly what you're talking about," I said finally.

"Do you? Because other people usually just dismiss me as a lunatic whose seeing crazy colors in the air"

"I don't think you're crazy," I said honestly. I meant every word. Despite everything, I don't think she's crazy. I think she's a girl in deep pain, but crazy is the last thing I would describe her as. As a matter of fact, she's the most sane and down-to-earth girl I know. Well, kind of know.

She smiled without showing any teeth and without it reaching her eyes. I noticed that she didn't smile showing her teeth too often. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen her teeth. She could have a green tooth for all I know.

I asked suddenly, "Why don't you ever smile?"

She thought for a second and said, "You've only known me for what? Three days? How would you know if I ever smile?"

"Three days is a long time to go without smiling"

She looked down and said, "You want to know the truth or do you want me to lie?"

"The truth, obviously"

"Okay. I never smile because it would be fake. And it feels foreign on my face"

"Maybe you just haven't found someone who can make you laugh"

She looked at me seriously. It was rare for her to look at me so I looked back at her and stared. She quickly looked away, "That's true"

I remembered a passage in her diary. It was the most recent one. The one where she mentioned the fact that she'd never had a boyfriend before. That shocked me when I read it. This girl is drop dead _gorgeous_, smart and funny (though her sense of humor is a little dry) How could no guy have ever noticed that?

I felt sad for her. She shouldn't have to go through what she's going through. She seemed a good catch for any guy.

"Um, can I ask you a question?"

She seemed wary, "Depends on what it is"

He paused for moment, wondering if he should ask her. It seemed kind of private.

But then again, I did know her secret and read her diary so how much more personal can it get?

"How come you've never had a boyfriend?"

I immediately regretted asking her. She looked at me with her eyebrows furrowed, the corners of her mouth turned down.

"Why do you want to know?"

For once, I felt embarrassed telling her how beautiful and special I think she is. She didn't seem so happy about it the first time around and I felt shy now.

"Just . . . a question"

"Oh" she paused for a moment, "Well, I don't know. Ask the so called "men" of the world"

I knew it wasn't her personal decision to not have a boyfriend, but this confirmed it. She had always wanted one, but no one ever asked her out.

No, I don't believe that. Who wouldn't want to ask _her_ out? Even if they don't know about how smart she is, the looks alone would get to any guy.

"I don't think it's the 'men of the world's" problem. I think it's you"

Okay, so I may have worded that wrong, but I meant it, despite how offended she seemed.

"_I'm_ the problem?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure you've turned down lots of guys. Maybe you're just too picky"

"You wouldn't know anything. The reason I don't have a boyfriend is because I don't deserve one!"

She started blushing again. That must've come out in an impulse move.

"You don't _deserve_ one? What do you mean?"

"Nothing, forget it"

She started walking ahead of me, probably in embarrassment. Doesn't she know that she doesn't need to be embarrassed in front of me? Nothing she does could make me think any less of her. I don't ever think any less of anyone when they do something embarrassing. I guess that makes me different from other people my age.

I grabbed her wrist and turned her around, "No, tell me"

"Would you stop grabbing me like that! Jeez. Besides, that was a stupid thing I said. I didn't mean it"

"Sure you did. Or you wouldn't have said it"

She looked at me sternly and then looked down, "Well it means what it means"

I was empathetic, " Why don't you deserve one?"

She walked around me and kept walking briskly ahead of me.

"Please tell me," I said looking at her as intensely as I could.

She stared at me and didn't look away for once, "Because I just don't" she looked away this time "I mean look at me. And you act like if you haven't spoken to me"

"I _have_ looked at you. And I don't see anything wrong with you. And I _have_ spoken to you, obviously. And I think you're great. Very smart"

She looked at me and her eyes were wide. She seemed surprised. I don't believe that she's never gotten a compliment before. I just can't believe that.

"What?"

"No-nothing"

"Have you never received a compliment before," I asked, giggly.

It seemed ridiculous to me that someone has never received a compliment in their life. That was unbelievable.

"Sure I have. . .By my parents"

"And by me"

"I guess"

We walked in silence for a while until Annabel spoke up "Oh my God! The swings!"

I looked to where she was looking and saw a set of old looking swings. It seemed precarious to me.

But when I looked at her, I knew I couldn't deny her this pleasure. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"C'mon, let's go," this time, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward.

She sat down at one swing and I stood behind her. I pulled backward on the chains of the swing and pushed her forward, "What are you doing?"

"I'm pushing you, obviously"

"Well thanks, but I don't need help. I think I can swing perfectly fine on my own"

I put my hands up in defeat and sat in the swing next to hers. I didn't swing however. I just watched her go up and then down. At one point, she started to stare up at the sky when she swung up. She looked at peace. I'd never seen a more beautiful person.

How could she do this to herself? Life is filled with precious moments. How could she want to die? It's so selfish of her.

I got up and stood behind her again. When she swung down I pulled hard at the chains on the swing and she stopped.

Once again, she asked "What are you doing?"

"How can you do this to yourself?"

"What?"

"How can you cut yourself? Why do you want to die so badly?"

"Where the hell is this coming from?"

I felt desperate for her to just answer me, "Just tell me why you do it!"

She got up and stood on the other side of the swing, "You should know, you read my diary," she said sourly.

"You cut yourself and want to die because you don't think you're pretty? That's so stupid! How can you be so selfish and do this to your parents?"

She looked at me, the skin between her eyebrows wrinkling. I have never seen her so angry. Granted, we've only talked for a day. Still, she looked furious.

"What the fuck is your problem? Why do you care why I do what I do? Fucking asshole"

She walked away fast. I caught up to her easily though and grabbed her by the wrist.

Next thing I know, I feel a sting on my cheek. It _really_ stung.

"I told you not to grab me!"

She began walking away from me again, "Annabel, look I'm sorry. I didn't mean it"

She called back, "Sure you did or else you wouldn't have said it"

Touché.

"Okay, I meant it, but it came out wrong"

She whipped around suddenly. I was scared she was going to slap me again, so I flinched.

"You wouldn't know anything," she said again "You don't know why I cut or why I want out, so don't even try to understand"

_If only she knew_, I thought. I understand more than she'll ever know.

"I know I don't know exactly what you're going through, but I can sympathize. Please just tell me so that I can understand better"

"Just leave me alone," she started walking away from me again.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you, obviously"

"I'm your ride back to school, remember?"

"Please, tell me something else I don't care about"

"Oh c'mon! Look, I'll take you home if you want"

"I don't need your fucking ride"

She curses a lot, doesn't she?

"So how are you gonna get home?"

"I'll figure out a way, don't you worry your pretty little self about me"

However, when she reached the parking lot, she stopped and looked around. After a moment, she kept walking to the street.

"Please come to the car"

She didn't answer. She was stubborn! I knew I wasn't going to get her to come in the car, so I thought of something in the spur of the moment. With her temper, she would kill me, but I didn't want her to get lost in another county.

I ran in front of her and stopped her in her tracks. She tried to walk past me, but I walked in front her again.

"Can you move!"

Suddenly, I grabbed her by the legs and swung her over my shoulder. She yelped and, like I expected, protested like it was the last thing she could ever do.

"Put me down! I swear to God, I'm going to fucking kill you!," she started pounding on my back, hard.

I walked a little slow under her weight (she wasn't big or anything, I just guess I'm not as strong as I thought) but eventually I reached the car. With my other hand, I opened the passenger door. I put her down warily, afraid she might run away. I was right to be afraid. I felt a hard punch straight to my nose.

"Ah fuck!," I cried. I held onto my nose and bent forward a little bit.

She started walking again, but I ran after her. I grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back.

"Sit down," I said very sternly.

I was extremely tired of this nonsense and stubborn attitude of hers. I didn't even know why I wanted to give her a ride anymore. However, I knew it would be the right thing to do, in the end.

She looked at me for a minute, very angry. She was shaking a bit, but eventually she sat inside. I closed the door hard behind her.

I stomped over to the driver's seat. I stood outside for a second and held on to my nose. It _really_ hurt. Jeez, this girl can hit hard! Two hits in one day.

I went inside and pulled down the mirror from my sun visor. No marks, save for the marks from the slap earlier. Four light pink finger marks were left on my cheek.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

I looked over to her and she looked at me, fuming. She didn't say anything though.

I was angry too, so I put the car into drive and left the park. The drive back was completely silent, but not awkward. We didn't want to say anything to each other, anyway.

When I got back to the school, she quickly got out and slammed the door. I saw her through my rearview mirror get into her Jeep, pull out, and quickly leave.

_Good riddance, bitch_, I thought.

However, later that night, when I was back home, I felt bad for calling her a bitch, even if it was only in my mind. She needs help, not insults. I wouldn't have done anything differently though. I knew she had no ride and I certainly wasn't going to let her walk home.

I sat down in a small, quiet kitchen with my dad as we ate. My dad and I looked nothing a like save for our hair. His was black, like mine. But our hair was the last thing on my mind.

On my mind, ever since that day in class, is Annabel. I always wonder if she's cutting at that moment or if she's "passing through fog" like she mentioned in her diary.

I wish I was with her at that moment, despite everything that happened today. I wanted to make her feel better. I wanted to protect her from the evil that troubled her.


	7. Chapter 8

By the next morning, I was still furious. Who does that arrogant, presumptuous asshole think he is? He doesn't know me at all, so he who is he to judge me or what I do?

I cut when I got home. It was mostly out of anger, but I knew that deep down inside, it was because he was right. My depression is so superficial. Do I really want to die because I think I'm hideous?

No, it's more than that. He's so. . .

Ahh! There goes that feeling in my chest again. It's a fury that comes from deep in my stomach and goes all the way up to my chest, like heartburn.

When I thought back to yesterday, I don't regret hitting him. I know I should, but when I get angry, I just think that he deserved it. But yesterday, after I cut, I did regret hitting him. He didn't say anything that wasn't true, I thought at the time.

I'm just a confusion of emotions. One moment I'm angry and the next (usually after a good old cut) I feel fine and even a little remorseful.

But right now, I just feel angry. I mean _of course_ there's more to my depression than just superficiality. I yearn to be someone else, more than anything in this world. Someone who has talent and intrinsic value as a human being. Basically someone who has purpose in this world.

I have no purpose. I don't know why I was created, which is why, long ago, I stopped believing in God. No benevolent God could be this cruel. Why would He create someone who has no purpose in living; who lives day by day wishing she could disappear?

And so now, sitting here in Western Civilization II, I feel more depressed than ever. Thinking about my purposeless life always puts me down here where no one can reach me. Where I don't want to be reached.

But I can't cut here. No, I've given up on the whole affair of cutting in class. I would not have another "Jayden incident" happen.

I couldn't concentrate in class. I couldn't even concentrate in Psychology. I didn't know why, but I kept thinking about Jayden. He interested me and I couldn't fathom why. I was furious at him for being so bold with me, but he was a mysterious fellow and I've always liked a good mystery; at least when it comes to people.

Actually truth be told, I've never liked a mystery, especially when it comes to people. I always like to know what I'm looking forward to when I meet someone. However, with Jayden, I just don't know what to expect. I mean he's trying to help me, a complete stranger, for hidden reasons that I just don't comprehend. And those hidden reasons (because I'm sure he has ulterior motives for helping me) make me extremely uncomfortable. I wanted to find out more about him.

So when I got home from class, I went to the only place where you can find out more about a person without directly asking them: Facebook.

I made one after a silly argument I had with Jo. I didn't want to make one, but she argued "What if a guy wants to get to know you and he looks you up on Facebook and you don't have one? There goes a shot with a potentially great guy!"

I did it to shut her up, but I really didn't want one. I didn't think I would get many friends on my list, but actually I had a fair amount. People that I didn't talk to in school suddenly wanted me to be their friend on Facebook. In the cyber social world it's quantity, not quality, that counts.

So naturally, I went on Facebook and typed his name and the school we went to in the search query. I didn't think it would be difficult; I mean, how many Jayden's can there possibly be? That's not a very common name.

Turns out, I was right. The first picture I saw was of a boy with beautiful blue eyes and short, dark hair. The name said Jayden Anthony D'Lorenzo.

_Nice name,_ I thought.

At least compared to mine it was. I hate my name. Annabel Camilla Santana doesn't even have a nice flow. I don't know what drugs my parents were on when they decided to name me, but I'll surely have to get some of them.

I clicked on his profile, and lucky for me, it wasn't partly private. It was completely exposed for the world to see. I read his "wall" first. It had people I never heard of calling him JD. One girl even spelled it "jaydee."

But when I went to his pictures, my heart began to beat a little faster. He looked breathtaking in his pictures. His eyes were so intense. I don't even remember his eyes being this beautiful.

_You do have a bad memory when it comes to people though,_ I thought.

His smile was gorgeous, of course. If everything else was handsome, why wouldn't his smile be great too, I thought wryly.

He looked so _happy_ in these pictures. In one picture, he was obviously caught in the moment with his friends. They were all smiling at each other. He was smiling at some girl.

_What the hell?_ _Why does he have so many girl friends?_

I quickly logged off and backtracked a little. Why would I even care if he has so many girl friends? He could have a million of them and I shouldn't care. Hell, he could have a girlfriend and I shouldn't care.

But I couldn't lie to myself. My subconscious knows the truth and the truth is that I'm attracted to him. I'm attracted to the mystery he presents and obviously I'm attracted to his very self.

So I logged back on and went on his page again. This time, I looked with more clarity, instead of with mad anticipation. I went to his bio and read what he wrote:

_The name's Jayden, JD for the impatient. There's not a whole lot to say about me, except that I love music. I play the guitar and the piano. I dabble in singing a bit. I'm the guitarist for a band that my friends and I created. _

And that's where he ended it. I looked at his interests (which is basically music) and at the bands he liked. I've heard of some of them, but most of them are only recognizable to their mothers.

But what did catch my eye was the fact that he was in a band. Right now, I'd like nothing more than to have his music lullaby me to sleep. My heart was beating fast. I felt the initial anger from yesterday and this morning fade away and, now, I just felt enamored. In the mildest way, of course. I wasn't actually in love with him (for Christ sake, I've only known him for four days!), but I do feel myself becoming obsessed with him despite having known him for so little time.

I also started to feel remorse. I regret hitting him so hard. I know it was hard because my hand hurt after I did so. Poor guy. I hope I didn't leave a bruise.

So the next time English meets I am in class early waiting for Jayden to walk in. My leg is shaking in anticipation. Now that I know that I like him, I feel nervous seeing him. But I know I have to apologize for my actions. Well, I don't have to, but I desperately want to. I don't want him to dislike me all because my anger can't control itself.

Person after person kept walking in, but no Jayden. When my professor came in, Jayden still wasn't here. Worst, someone has taken the seat next to mine; Jayden's seat.

Unfortunately, the professor began lecture without Jayden being here. Like yesterday, I couldn't concentrate one bit, but today, it was for different reasons. Today, I felt an odd hollow in chest, like if something were missing. I couldn't breathe correctly.

_How is it possible that I've only known him for a couple of days and I already miss him when he isn't here?_

I didn't like this feeling at all, so I tried to concentrate on the "interesting" lecture, but somewhere in my chest, I felt a missing piece.

When Professor Rea was deep into his lecture, the door suddenly opens. In comes Jayden and I feel my heart start to beat again as if it weren't beating this entire time. He sits far away from me, at the only available seat, and I stare at him. He doesn't even gift me with one glance.

Throughout the lecture, I kept staring at Jayden. He never looked back at me.

When class was over, Jayden just swiftly walked out; just as swiftly as he'd done the day I cut in class. I walked briskly, but not pushing anyone, through the crowd of students heading for the door. When I finally walked out, I looked to my left and I didn't see Jayden anywhere. However, I felt someone grab my right wrist and I quickly turned around hoping, knowing, it was him.

"Please don't hit me," said his deep, attractive voice.

"Jayden, I am so sorry for hit-"

"Let's go outside and talk"

He let go of my wrist and walked ahead of me. I just _knew_ he was angry at me. I mentally kicked myself for ever having hit him in the first place.

Once outside, he went straight to the bench we sat at the last time. He sat down and I sat down next to him. Outside, I could see a light purplish bruise on his nose. I felt miserable.

"I am so sorry for hitting you. I've been beating myself up about it this whole time. You really didn't deserve it"

"Well, I don't know if I deserved getting hit or not, but I shouldn't have said that to you. I didn't mean it"

"Jayden, I know you meant it. You don't have to lie. I'm the one who should be doing all the apologizing"

"No really, I didn't mean it. I was just so. . . so anxious knowing that I couldn't do anything to stop you from cutting right then and there"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything"

"Why do you care so much?"

He looked down for a moment and then looked at me again. He grabbed my hands in his larger ones and said, "I care because I don't want anyone to suffer the way you are"

I couldn't breathe. _He was touching my hands._ My heart didn't skip beats, it just completely stopped beating. I was really into this guy, wasn't I?

"You have a good heart"

Without letting go of my hands, he laughed and said, "No, I just have a fucked up life. I don't wouldn't want anyone to suffer the way I have"

Suddenly a wave a sympathy and curiosity washed over me. He has a fucked up life? What could have possibly happened to this beautiful boy to make him so good? And more than that, why would any suffering make you go Mother Theresa? Shouldn't it have had the opposite effect?

I didn't know what to say, so instead he let go my hands and spoke, "You have a good arm on you"

I half-laughed and touched his nose with my cold hands. He flinched under my touch.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Doc said it should heal just fine"

I panicked, "You went to a doctor?"

"I was kidding, Ann"

I laughed warily, but I couldn't help but like when he called me Ann. It was a nickname; it was intimate.

I decided then and there that I would stop being stubborn and accept his help after all. I didn't really care about myself, that was a lost cause, but I just wanted to spend time with him. I haven't had a crush in so long and I'd never spoken to the guys of my fantasies anyway. This time, we talk, and not even because I force him to! He _wants_ to speak to me. And I've never felt more content.


	8. Chapter 9

Several weeks and an unnatural red dye in my hair later, Jayden and I were still on good terms, with the odd argument here and there (usually after I cut.)

I can honestly say, hand to my heart, that I have never been quite so taken by any person as I am with Jayden. And it's not just the physical anymore; I have never met such an utterly _good_ person. His heart is made up of pure gold. I still don't understand why he wants to help me, but I don't care anymore. I just want the opportunity to spend time with him.

When I haven't cut, Jayden and I spend our time just hanging out at the library, going to restaurants, or going to parks (it was warmer now, so we could actually enjoy the park.) I cherish every moment I have with him. I don't know why, but I feel like he's just an illusion. As if, one day, he'll be gone just as quickly as he came.

But sometimes, he's very real to me. Those moments when he grabs my hands, hugs me, kisses my cheek or just has physical contact with me.

And there are instances when he's extremely real to me. In those instances, I wonder how could such a perfect person be real? In those instances, despite our short interaction with each other, I feel a heartbreaking love coursing through my body. I feel my stomach drop down to my feet, my arms shake and I want to cry. I want to cry like a baby; inconsolable because I know that Jayden will never be mine. I know that Jayden could never reciprocate these feelings. How could someone like him want someone like me? A talentless, mediocre weirdo. A freak. A human with monstrous emotions. Someone with a spit shined conscious could never want me, who's conscious is black.

I know, I know, I keep throwing roses at his feet, but this is how I truly feel about him. It's not all smoke and mirrors. I've seen him near tears for me. We've only known each other for a couple of weeks and already his eyes fill with moisture when I cut.

I haven't cut quite as often as I used to. Since that one incident :

_The blade was on my skin, dancing. Waltzing across my skin, a familiar dance. My breath was ragged. One bloody line left on my skin. Not enough! _

One more and I'm done,_ I promised myself._

_ So I let the blade twirl gracefully on my skin. _

_ Fuck! That one felt. . . wonderful. Pain coursed through my body radiating from these two angry wounds._

_ However, it still wasn't enough. Usually two did the trick, but today wasn't a usual day. Today, my heart burst open and fell to the floor into small pieces. _

_ Today, I saw Jayden kissing a girl at school. They were locked in a passionate embrace. Her hands were grabbing the back of his neck, his hands were gently placed on her two cheeks. I didn't wait for him like I was supposed to. Instead, I walked past them, wishing I could cry. Wishing crying was a possibility for me, but it isn't. I just cut. Crying is for the weak, or so I thought._

_ "Annabel!" I heard him call my name. But I didn't turn around; I kept walking, not wanting to interrupt their moment._

_ "Annabel!" I heard his voice far away. My heart yearned to turn around and see his face, but I couldn't. I finally realized that Jayden just isn't for me. We weren't made for each other and that was more than I could bare. At that moment, I knew I loved him, despite my extreme denial of it._

_ And so here I am, at home, two cuts in and no tears fallen. I was prepared to make my third cut, despite a massive amount of blood pooling around the two other cuts. Blood is so dramatic. The cuts aren't nearly as bad as the blood makes it seem._

_ I was about to give in to the lure of the blade (just one more, I promise!) when I heard my name being called. Yelled, actually. I turned my head around to my open door and there he was. All 6'0 feet of him in his unimaginable glory._

_ When I turned my entire body around he had a _horrified _expression on. I was still holding on to the blade and the blood was running down my arm lusciously. I felt nauseous. _

_ Before I knew what was happening (my brain was in a fog) he had me in a tight embrace. So tight, it hurt slightly. But I couldn't feel the pain from his strong hold. I could only feel the pleasure of his embrace. And the ecstasy of the wounds._

_ I tried hard to wriggle out of his hug, but he was stronger than me. I didn't want to let go, but I didn't want to stain his white shirt with blood._

_ "Please don't. Just let me hold you." His voice was weak. Almost as if he were. . ._

_ I tried again to break free just to prove to myself that he couldn't be crying. Not for me._

_ "Please Annabel." He _was _crying. I heard him sniffle._

_ I couldn't resist, especially with him asking me not to let go. So I dug my head into his neck and smelled his cologne. I had a strong urge to kiss his neck, but for once, I didn't let my impulses take the best of me. This was Jayden we were talking about, not something so stupid and trivial like cutting is._

_ When he let me go, I felt as if we hadn't held each other nearly long enough when, in reality, we had been hugging for a long time._

_ Like I thought, blood had stained his shirt. It looked like a crime scene, but he didn't seem to care. All he did was stare at me and hold onto my hands._

_ His eyes were brimming with tears and his nose was red._

_ "Why?"_

_ I couldn't tell him the truth. I just couldn't tell him that I cut because I have fallen into unrequited love with him._

_ "It's. . . nothing."_

_ He laughed with no humor, "Nothing? I hardly doubt you cut because of nothing"_

_ He looked down at my arm, blood beginning to pool again. He led me to the bathroom and sat me down on the toilet._

_ "Where are your Band-Aids and cotton balls?"_

_ I pointed to where they were. He took out a couple of cotton balls and gently wiped at the blood. I still felt dizzy and a strong urge to vomit overcame me._

_ "I have to lay down," I said and quickly I past by him and went to my room and laid down on my bed. I faintly heard the water being turned on in the bathroom. On second thought, I should've stayed in the bathroom. I might throw up._

_ I closed my eyes and suddenly I felt a weight being put on the side of my bed. My eyes swung open and Jayden was tending to my wounds with a water soaked cotton ball. Ideally, he should use alcohol, I thought. But not only am I glad he didn't (that would've stung like hell) but I just don't care. I'm just glad he's near me._

_ He put bandages on the wounds, respectively. Before I drifted off into sleep (or maybe I just blacked out from the loss of blood, who knows) I felt his lips on my bandaged wounds._

Of course, I can't be sure he actually kissed my cuts. Maybe I was just being delusional from all the blood loss.

But of all the things that happened, things that should stick with me, all I can think about is the fact that he saw me sleeping. Did my mouth open during sleep? Did I snore?

Of course, after that incident, I found out how he got into my house. I had forgotten to lock my front door in the heat of the moment. Any stranger could've come into my house and raped me just because I forgot to lock the door. Shame on me.

However, I obviously didn't forget how he asked me to let him hold me. It's all I ever think about. It's the only glimmer of hope that I have that he has some sort of connection to me.

We got into an argument the day after. He demanded to know why I cut and I blatantly told him to mind his own business. The sweetness from the previous day was long gone. We didn't talk for a day (which is long for us) but we both eventually came around.

Every time I cut, the same thing happens. We have a 'moment' and then we get into an argument. As obsessive as it sounds, I could cut all the time if only to have those precious 'moments' with him. But I don't because I know it hurts him. And I don't cut nearly as often as I used to for that same reason. At least not in places where he can see.

It's funny, when I first met Jayden, I wanted nothing to do with him. I wanted him out of my life. He was an annoyance that needed to be taken care of. But now, he's all I ever want. I hang out with him more than I hang out with Jo. As a matter of fact, I haven't spoken to Jo in ages. It's been almost two weeks. That's the problem with her: you can be conjoined with her at the hip sometimes and then other times, she's Cal's little tail. It sounds cruel, I know, but it's true. And I certainly am not going to beg her to be my friend when I really need her; I'm just not that kind of person. I might be self deprecating to the point of being annoying, but I still have my pride. I got that trait from my mom.

It's my pride that won't let me tell Jayden how I really feel for him. That and I might just come off sounding like an obsessive teenager. I _know_ I'll come off sounding like I'm obsessed because that's exactly how I feel. Completely, obsessively enamored. And I know I seem like some of the heroine's in novels- you know, the kind that have some kind of dependent personality disorder or something and that _have_ to be with their dream man in order to feel secure about themselves.

Well, I'm not exactly like that. I don't feel any more secure when I'm with Jayden than when I'm not with Jayden. I feel exactly as inadequate either way; in fact, I feel more inadequate when I'm with Jayden. And though I sometimes (well, actually, all the time) feel as if I need to be with Jayden or my heart feels as if it will burst into a million pieces, my brain knows that I don't _have_ to be with Jayden. But either way, I feel better with him than I do without him around. Truthfully, I don't need him, but I want him, desperately.

So here I am waiting for Jayden to come pick me up. My heart is beating a million miles per minute while I anxiously wait for him to arrive. I keep trying to be stealthy about looking out the window (so that neither my parents nor he will realize that I'm waiting for him), but my mom catches me anyway.

"Mami, relax, he's coming"

I laugh, "I wasn't waiting for him. I was just looking out the window"

"A si, como no"

My parents gave me a lot of grief when I was first picked up by Jayden at my house. They would not shut up about how I had finally gotten a boyfriend (even though I explained to them a million and one times that he is not my boyfriend) and how I had caught a "blancito" (an American boy.)

Jayden was always such a gentlemen that he always came inside my house to say hello to my parents. He wasn't those types that just text me or honked his horn when he was here. I appreciated that because he earned a lot of brownie points from my parents for that. It really matters to me what my parents think of Jayden because their approval means the world to me.

Not that he's my boyfriend or anything so I don't actually need approval for anything.

"He's here," I heard my mom say from the kitchen.

I got up to answer the door, but he hadn't rung the doorbell yet so I sat back down.

"Ay dios mio, calm down!"  
The doorbell rung and I all but ran to the door. I tried to calm my breathing before I answered the door.

_Breath normally, Annabel! Stop being such a freak!_

I opened the door and my breathing slowed to a soft exhale. I felt a warm sensation rush all over my body as I saw Jayden standing in the doorway, smiling.

"Hey you"

"Hey," I said lamely.

He came in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek before he stepped inside to greet my parents. I was always embarrassed when he kissed my cheek. I was paranoid that he could feel the heat emanating from my face.

"Where's your mom?"

"In the kitchen"

He walked to the kitchen, "Hi Mrs. Santana"

"Hi Jayden. How are you," she came over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Good and you?"

They continued with this small talk, as they always did. I always stood back politely, admiring how smooth Jayden was with my mom. My mom doesn't like people very easily (she nearly always has something bad to say about them) but she really likes Jayden. He's handsome and very polite- something hard to find in young guys nowadays.

As their small talk started to end and my mom started doing her motherly tasks in the kitchen, I went over to Jayden, "So"

I always felt embarrassed to ask where we were going. It felt like a demand to go somewhere when I was perfectly content staying in and just being with him.

"Uh, I have to study for my Lit final, so I was wondering if we could stay here today"

I didn't know he could read minds. I didn't want him to take what I just thought too literally. Just because I said I was perfectly content staying in with him didn't mean I wanted to stay in my house under the watching eye of my mother.

But I felt too embarrassed to say no (after all, there was nothing really wrong with my house), "Yeah sure, I have to do some studying too"

I really didn't. I don't study. Ever. I'm just not the A student you would expect a normal bookworm to be.

"Do you want to come to my room?"

"If it's okay with your mom"

There he goes again being a perfect gentlemen. It's almost annoying how perfect he is.

"Mami, lo voy a llevar a mi cuarto"

"Deje la puerta abierta"

I gave her a look. Did she think we were going to have sex with her being in the kitchen? Besides, I would never close the door with Jayden being in my room. It already felt awkward enough to have him in my room, but closed in would feel too uncomfortable for words.

"Um, you know where my room is. I'll be up in a minute. Do you want something to drink?"

"No, I'm okay, thanks"

I went into the kitchen while Jayden went up the stairs. I poured myself some lemonade and tried not to run up the stairs (I didn't want to seem out of breath when I went into my room and I didn't want to trip.)

Jayden was sitting on my bed taking out his books when he noticed me.

"Sorry we have to stay in today, but I really do have to study"

"So why didn't you just stay home? I would've understood"

He blushed slightly, "I'd rather study with someone than be alone. I can't concentrate when I'm alone"

"Oh. Well I should probably study too. Not really study, I just have to get started on some essays"

"For what class?"

"All of them"

He laughed, "Oh God, I would die if I had to write an essay for every class"

"Yeah, well, welcome to my fucked up world"

"Ann," he said with a fatherly tone.

Jayden never wanted me to talk about my life being a piece of crap. He always wanted me to be a positive ball of fun.

'Sorry," I said sarcastically.

I sat on the bed next to him and took out my laptop while he read his book.

"You can lay back you know"

He was sitting straight and he just looked uncomfortable. So he awkwardly laid his back on the wall next to me. I felt awkward too. The last time we were in my room was during that incident. When we have those 'moments' we never speak about them after. It's like they never happened and being in here just reminded me (as if I needed a reminder) of how close we were.

Twenty minutes later I was no closer to writing this paper than I was before. I couldn't concentrate with Jayden being so close to me.

"Have you written anything?" He asked with a laugh in his voice.

"I am obviously researching for my paper. Duh" I said with a mocking tone.

He laughed, "My head hurts from reading this negative font one book"

I looked at his book and he was right. The font was really small.

"Stop reading for a few minutes"

"Yeah, I'm done"

I kept researching while Jayden just stared into space. I wasn't really concentrating on this article about Schizophrenia. I looked at him and he wasn't blinking, just staring.

I waved my hand in front of him and he blinked and looked at me, smiling.

"Sorry, I was thinking about something"

"About what?"

He paused for a moment before he said, "Ann, I have to tell you something, but I don't know how"

My heart skipped a beat. What could possibly leave him at a loss for words? Maybe he wanted to tell me that he didn't want to be my friend anymore. Yes, that has to be it.

I smiled despite my inner turmoil, "Well just tell me"

He looked down and then looked up, biting his lip. He just stared at me.

"What?"

Suddenly his hand was on my cheek, his thumb caressing my face.

_Oh God, is this it? The moment I've been waiting for?_

It was the moment you knew that the guy was going to kiss you. It was the moment where time stops and it's only you and the other person.

He leaned in, closer and closer, until his lips gently touched mine; he parted my lips and for the first time, I was kissing someone.

My head went wild.

_Am I doing this right?_

_ Oh my God, he's kissing me!_

_ How do you move your lips?_

_ Oh. My. God. He's kissing me!_

The kiss seemed to last forever and ended so shortly at the same time. I just stared at him, wordless.

He went into his pocket and took out a neatly folded note, "Read this when I leave"

He kissed my forehead and left. I heard him saying good-bye to my mom and then the door open and shut.

I was still sitting there, stunned, with the note in my hand. I was shaking, so I couldn't open it.

I faintly heard my mom come up the stairs and come into my room, "Que paso? Did you guys fight? Why did he leave so fast?"

My mind scrambled for a lie in this fog, "He had to go home. His dad called him"

Satisfied, my mom went back downstairs. I looked at the paper in my hand. It was folded very neatly and had my name on the front.

I took a deep breath and opened it. I recognized his sloppy handwriting.

The contents of the letter left me breathless.


	9. The Letter

_ Annabel,_

_ I know this seems strange, me writing you a letter. Usually we can talk about anything _

_ and everything, but this is different. I've been trying to say this to you for a long time _

_ now, but I can't find the words. Every time I'm with you, my words get tangled up and_

_ I feel too shy to say anything. I'm getting tangled up right now trying to write this. I _

_ guess what I'm trying to say is that, for a long time now, I've developed strong feelings _

_ for you. Stronger than strong. I love you, Annabel. I've never loved anyone the way I love_

_ you. I can't stop thinking about you. You're in my every thought, in my every dream. _

_ You're everything to me. I want to protect you from anything and everything, but I don't_

_ know how. I feel like a failure because you're not getting any better. I'm not doing what _

_ I'm supposed to do. And no, you're not my project or a "psychology case." This is what I_

_ want to do. I want to be with you. At all times. You couldn't ever understand the relief I _

_ feel when we're together._

_ I don't know if you feel the same, but I wanted you to know. It's been on my chest for a _

_ long time now. If you do feel the same, you can come talk to me. If you don't, I still want _

_ to be your friend. I still want to protect you and help you get better. Just remember that _

_ if you ever feel like no one cares, I do. More than you'll ever know._

_ Jayden_


	10. Chapter 11

My heart stopped. And then it beat harder than it has ever beat before. And then it would stop again. I couldn't breathe. I was shaking.  
I read the letter over and over again waiting to see it magically change into a letter of rejection. But no, the more I read it, the more the reality set in.  
Suddenly, my lips turned upward. I couldn't help but smile. I smiled like I've never smiled before.  
"Oh my god! Ah!," I screamed. I jumped up and down and screamed my lungs out.  
"Ay mami, que paso?" My mom came running up the stairs, worried.  
"Mami, he loves me!" I kept jumping up and down.  
"What?"  
"He loves me, he loves me!" I handed her the letter and she read it slowly.  
She smiled too. She knew that I loved him.  
When I finally calmed down a little I told her, still smiling "I'm gonna go to his house. I'll be back tomorrow"  
As I left, she called behind me, "You're kidding, right?"  
As I drove to his house, my earlier elation dulled down to worry. What if the letter was a joke? A sick, cruel joke. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense for the letter to be a joke. Why would Jayden love me? I'm so boring and really have no personality to speak of. It doesn't make sense for Jayden to love me.  
When I drove up to his house, I was seething with anger. How could he play a joke on me? I'm sure he knows that I feel something for him. I couldn't make it any more obvious unless I screamed it at him. He is a sick, cruel person if he thinks this letter is funny.  
I only saw Jayden's car in the driveway when I went up to his door, so I knocked as hard as I could. My anger got the best of me.  
My breathing was fast and it wasn't because I was angry. Despite his uneffable cruelty, I still loved him. Seeing him gets me all jittery, something which I've, now, learned to hate.  
When he opened the door, my breathing slowed to an exhale. He looked so beautiful. I loved him so much.  
"Hey," he said, smiling.  
"Hi," I tried to sound as indifferent as possible, but what I really wanted to do was cry. I was genuinely happy for a couple of minutes when I thought he actually felt the same way I did. But now that I know it's just a joke, all I felt was misery.  
We stood there, awkwardly, for a moment before he said, "Oh, come in"  
I slowly walked in and he closed the door, "So, I didn't think you would come, but you came"  
He seemed nervous. He kept passing his hand through his hair and smiling.  
"Yeah I came"  
Again, we stood there awkwardly. I knew I was being awkward, but I didn't know how to start. I was being affected by his presence.  
"So, I mean, do you have anything to say? I'm fucking nervous here and you haven't said anything"  
I looked at him straight in the eye and said,"Yeah I have something to say. What the hell is your problem? What the hell is this?"  
I took the letter out of my jacket pocket and shook it in his face.  
"It's a letter. I thought it was kind of self explanatory"  
"It is as a matter of fact. I thought you were different, but obviously not," my anger was really flaring now. I started to walk out the door.  
"What are you talking about? What do you mean I'm not different? Come back!"  
He grabbed my wrist, as he always does, and pulled me back inside.  
"Ann, I love you," he didn't let go of my wrist when he kissed me again, more forcefully this time.  
I melted under his touch. My heart started beating fast again and I wanted nothing more than to kiss him all day.  
However, I was brought back to my senses and pushed him back, "Don't you think this joke has gone long enough?"  
He looked at me with (can it be?) surprise, "Joke? What are you talking about?"  
"Oh please, don't act stupid. It's really not your thing. I don't know why you thought this would be funny, but I don't find it funny at all"  
He started laughing. I couldn't believe it. So it was a joke. I knew it before, but there was a little glimmer of hope that maybe he really did love me. But now my heart sank and I felt the tears forming in my eyes.  
"You're sick," I started walking out when I felt his arms around my waist.  
"Ann, this isn't a joke. Everything I said in that letter is the truth. I really do love you, more than anything in the world"  
One single tear fell down my cheek. That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me and it was from the person that I most love in the world.  
I turned around, his arms still around my waist and I kissed him. When we let go I said, "I love you too"  
He smiled wider than I've ever seen him smile, picked me up and spun me around. I laughed when he put me down, "How do you do that?"  
He pecked my lips, "Do what?"  
"Pick me up. I'm not that light in case you haven't noticed"  
He laughed and grabbed my hand pushing me to the staircase, "Come on, I want to show you something"  
When in his room he sat on the bed, grabbed his guitar and the first chords to a song started. He looked at me while still playing his guitar and said, "I love you Annabel. More than you'll ever know"  
And then he started singing the most beautiful song I've ever heard with the most beautiful voice I've ever encountered:

Sweet embrace, such a sweet disgrace  
That you've created.  
Kiss your tears, you scream your fears  
You swear you're hated  
And I try to shield, these vast rains  
Brutal winds in this open war field

Lee's bound to your protection  
Don't recognize these scars they fade.  
Lee's bound to your confession  
Don't deny your right to live  
Lee's bound to your protection  
Don't lie. I'll be your Lee.

Hold tight, you cut through  
those silk covers  
Take away, you run away from roof tops  
yelling obscenties.  
And I love relentlessly, entirely dovoted to  
your jurisdiction against amour por vie. Why?  
Lee's take it away. Pain.  
Please just stay. With me.

When those last chords finished he looked up at me and I was crying, "Oh Ann, don't cry"  
He came and hugged me tight, "I'm not crying because I'm sad! I'm crying because I'm so happy"  
He laughed and we kissed. This kiss lasted longer than I expected. When we parted, we just stared into each other's eyes. I felt as if I could do that forever. Just stare into the vast enigma that are his blue, blue eyes.  
Before I even knew what I was doing, I kissed him and I started unbuttoning my shirt. He looked down at me and kissed me again.  
"Are you sure?," he whispered.  
"I've never been more sure about anything"  
We kissed and I took off his shirt. I unbuttoned my jeans and he unbuttoned his. He took my pants and his pants off. Ordinarily, I would feel extremely awkward and uncomfortable in a situation like this. But I didn't because this isn't an ordinary situation. I wasn't with just  
anyone. I was with Jayden and I loved him.  
He led me to his bed and we kissed, "I love you so much Ann"  
"I love you too"


End file.
